A Natsuki Story
by yobokio
Summary: This is a story about Natsuki, joining and becoming a part of the literature club.
1. Chapter 1

Natsuki hates mornings. Mornings mean having to face all the problems of the day. Day meant school. Day meant bullying. Day meant Dad. She relished the brief sanctuary she had in her room during he night hours. She was able to read her manga, one of the few things that she was able to appreciate. She didn't just appreciate manga, it was all forms of art and literature. Natsuki always wanted to be living in a fictional, carefree world. No worries about her father or the pang of loneliness during break and lunch periods, seeing all the other students separate into their own cliques, leaving her to watch from an isolated wall with envy as the other students ate their lunches.

Never being able to have a lunch always bother Natsuki. It was not so much the food she could never get enough of, despite being obviously malnourished. It was always being unable to _eat_ with anyone. When sitting with a group, it felt ostracizing to be unable to dine with them, and as such, she alienated herself.

She held mixed feelings for her classes. She never had anyone to talk to, and during physical education, she found herself envying the much more developed of her classmates and even underclassmen. She was spared no scrutiny by the popular girls and almost anyone. Being malnourished prevented her from having even adequate marks, which angered her father and made home even worse.

Whenever the last bell would ring, Natsuki felt nothing but dread. Having no friends to hang out with, she would walk home as slowly as possible, anything to delay seeing her father early.

Every time she crossed the threshold of her home she tried to make herself hidden. If she was lucky, he would already be sitting in front of the television with a whiskey bottle in hand. On other days, or if he came home late, she was always the target of the anger, set off by inconveniences as small as a drawer being unable to open with a spatula acting as a barricade. He'd pick up the nearest thing and throw it at her (or swing, if she made the mistake of being close enough). Natsuki knew not to dodge them. Dodging would only make him angrier and even more violent. She was able to cover her facial scars and bruises with makeup, one of her only luxuries.

She didn't want the makeup, ever. The house she lived in was falling into dilapidation, and there was never consistent food on the table. With her father working a low paying, dead end warehouse job, spending most of his money on drugs, alcohol, and whatever pleased his desires. The reason makeup was always on her nightstand was that no one could raise suspicion to Natsuki's home life. Natsuki did want to go to the police, but doing so would leave her homeless without a family. And if they didn't incriminate her father, he would make sure she felt his wrath everywhere.

The night always brought her relief. Her bastard father would slip into an alcohol-induced stupor and she could finally feel relaxed. With the little money she did manage to turn up, she would buy herself manga and read and reread it to her hearts content. She couldn't afford physical manga consistently however, and to get her fix of image-based storytelling she would read on her phone. Her phone was her best kept secret. It was a small flip phone, with prepaid minutes. Buying the phone was no easy feat. She was able to steal about half of the money she needed from her father, but any more would raise his suspicion. The rest was money that she casually lifted off of her classmates. During fights or passing periods, all it would take is some light fingerwork and she would have her small reward. Saving up for a phone was its own challenge, as her rumbling stomach often called her attention to cheap food. Once she was able to buy her phone though, she was blown away with the possibility and freedom it offered. Keeping it secret from her father was another priority, so it never left her person. Should it be discovered, she should at least expect belt lashes across the face, not nearly as painful as losing her phone.

But Natsuki decided that today was going to be a different day, because today, she was going to try and join a club.


	2. Chapter 2

After the final bell, Natsuki gathered her things and, determined to find a club, made her way to the school bulletin board to find flyers. The board was awash with colorful papers advertising their brand of after school community. The first paper to catch her eye was the anime club's poster, riddled with iconic characters from all sorts of genres. Natsuki entertained the thought of joining their club, but ultimately decided against it. She still had not told her father she was joining a club, and if she were to go home and tell her father that she joined an anime club, of all things, she would be beaten.

There were stereotypical clubs, such as chess, debate, language, and religion clubs, none of which she was a partisan to. Head down, she dejectedly walked away from the board. Natsuki began to mentally steel herself for what happens when she comes home later than usual.

Natsuki glanced at her phone. She knew she was going to be late, and decided to rest in an empty classroom for a minute before starting her walk home. She shut her eyes and began to let her mind wander. She could choose to not go home, but that leaves her no options, and she would likely be caught and sent back to an enraged father. She could try standing up to her dad, but the matchup of an overweight middle aged man vs. a malnourished teenage girl doesn't exactly favor herself.

"Uh... hello?"

Natsuki jolted back into focus. Before her stood a girl with long brown hair and emerald green eyes. She responded to the girl "Can I help you?"

If the girl was bothered by Natsuki's quip, it didn't show on her face. Her bright smile remained, and she began to speak.

"I couldn't help you were dissatisfied with the clubs put up on the bulletin board, and I wanted to offer an invitation to my club."

Natsuki looked at the girl with suspicion. This girl, by her looks alone, seems popular, so why should Natsuki care for her club? She didn't even know this girl's name, so why should she care for her club?

The other girl noticed Natsuki's apparent disgust and spoke again. "I probably forgot to say this, but my name's Monika, and I'm the president of the literature club."

Natsuki was surprised. She had a vague idea who Monika was, after seeing her name at the top of the grade leaderboards (Natsuki herself was never higher than average). She entertained the idea. "Why would I want to join a literature club?"

Monika racked her head for a response. It almost appears she didn't plan to get this far. "Well... we aren't even an official club yet, but if you joined, we'd be able to actually be recognized, and get our own room, and,"

Natsuki cut her off there. "Is this just some half-hearted project so you can and a 'club founder' medal onto your college applications?"

Monika released she hit a wall, and decided to try a new topic. "Would you like to meet the other members? I'm sure they could help convince you."

Natsuki felt a brief instance of relief. She did want to join a club, and it seemed plausible for her. She didn't quite know what a literature club would entail. She decided to take Monika up on her offer. "I guess I could see who is already there."

Monika beamed with delight. "Alright, please follow me.

Natsuki lifted herself out of the chair. Despite her poker face, she was excited to actually meet some possible new friends. She started to follow Monika, but stopped dead in her tracks. The clock's face above the doorway stared back into hers, and she began to panic.

"You can put me down on the list, I really need to go NOW!" She brushed past Monika and started running down the hallway.

Monika, confused as she was, asked the most pressing question on her mind. "What's your name?!"

Natsuki shouted back "NATSUKI OKITSUGU!"

Natsuki was running faster than she had ever ran before. Being this late would definitely result in a beating of some kind, but if she made it home quicker, she could perhaps reduce its severity. Panting, she reached the door. If, by some miracle, her dad didn't come home yet, she could scurry up to her room and hide.

Today was not her lucky day. The second she opened the door her dad's rough hand gripped her shoulder, and threw her inside. Kicking the door shut behind him, he loosened his belt and snapped it in his hands.

"Do you have ANY idea how late you stayed out tonight?!" Bringing down the belt on her back. Natsuki, trying to raise to her feet, let out a yelp as the leather connected. "How many FUCKING times do I need to tell you to keep your fucking mouth shut?" He roughly turned Natsuki around. Tears already were streaming down her face. "Are you already crying?" he asked, "I'll give you something to cry about."

Natsuki's father brought his belt down over the left side of her face. Natsuki tried to braces herself as best she could, but the pain was still there. She felt a cut open up above her eye.

"Now you better tell me why you were so late today." He said through gritted teeth.

"I j-joined an afterschool club." Natsuki whispered, barely audible. She pulled her head away, bracing for another lash, but to her surprise, her dad walked back to his chair in the living room.

"Whatever," he growled, "less time for me to worry about you. There's food on the table for you."

Natsuki glances over. Of course it was _food_ , but she didn't quite feel hungry enough to finish her dads sandwich, and some burnt fried chicken he most likely cooked up 30 minutes ago. Still, she took the food up to her room, barricaded the door with her desk chair, sat down, and cried.


End file.
